SiNN (2 page)

For that type of show they’d have to go elsewhere. The
delicate chains, the elaborate mask, the promise of seeing something they
should not kept them coming back night after night.

She recognized the regulars. The short, thin guy to the left
always drank Scotch while dividing his attention between the stage and her
image on the flat-screen TV. The older man to the right, a distinguished Latino
with graying hair, reminded her of a banker who would turn her down for a loan
if she were foolish enough to ask.

Here, she held him in thrall. Here, she had the power.

Brimming with confidence, Lea slid off Kit’s leg.

He pushed to his feet, looming over her, his shoulder-length
hair artfully mussed, its brown tint streaked with gold highlights. For a
breath, the music swelled. In time with it, Lea pushed to her knees, running
her hands over Kit’s naked ass, his impossibly firm cheeks. Playfully, she
pinched one.

He pushed to the balls of his feet, his legs wavering.
Surprise swept his youthful features.

Lea gave him a mischievous wink, then lowered her face to
his G-string, the gold leather strained from his weighty balls and cock.

One of the men cleared his throat. Others spoke in such low
tones, their comments were impossible for Lea to understand, though she
suspected they’d said something obscene. She caught the faint rustle of
clothing, the squeak of leather, telling her many of the guys were leaning
closer to the stage.

Encouraged at their response, Lea turned slightly and snaked
out her tongue. Drawing it across her upper lip, she sneaked a peek at one man
seated a few feet away.

Cellphone in hand, head lowered to its screen, he wasn’t
reading it, nor was he regarding her body. His eyes were already on hers.
Waiting. Watching.

Lea’s pulse jumped at his furtive scrutiny. Disconcerted,
she glanced away.

Kit’s ass tightened beneath her fingers. She stopped digging
her nails into him and sneaked another glimpse at the man.

Looking to be in his thirties, he was dressed impeccably in
a dark suit, white shirt and red silk tie. The uniform of an executive even
higher up the money ladder than the middle-aged banker.

His brown hair was close-cropped, his skin Latino brown, his
full lower lip decidedly sulky. The kind of mouth that marked him as a bad boy
and caused women to make poor decisions.

This time he read whatever was on his cellphone’s screen, as
though he’d caught her gaze earlier without intending to…or he’d been watching
her surreptitiously all along and didn’t want anyone to notice.

Why?

He didn’t seem like the shy type, given his handsome
features. He didn’t appear all that interested in her show either.

As though he’d read her thoughts, he lifted his face, returning
his attention to her.

Lea saw the thin scar on his chin.

His lips turned up in a faint smile. Not in carnal hunger as
she expected. Instead, he seemed faintly pleased.

By what?

Uncertain, Lea stared, unable to return his smile even
though it might mean losing a large tip. He had the look of trouble about him.
Married, no doubt, with the morals of a rutting dog.

Kit shifted his weight, a wordless cue that their act was
ending and she better start concentrating on her performance.

Lea slid her hand to his navel. With her fingers on the
small depression, she ran her thumb beneath the edge of his G-string as though
intending to stroke his thick bush.

A pleased baritone from the right called out, “Oh yeah.”

Male chuckles followed.

With hooded eyes, Lea glanced about the room to let the
crowd know she’d now acknowledge their presence. Deliberately avoiding the
handsome Latino, she offered a feline smile to the others in the wing chairs,
granting them her attention for a few seconds before focusing on the ones standing
behind.

To the left were males of varying ages, a sea of faces that
scarcely registered. Those on the right were the same until she came to one man
near the back.

Her heart made a funny twist. Heat suffused her body.

He was taller than most of the others with rough good looks.
In his prime, no more than early thirties, he had the sharp features of a
Native American. His brows and eyes were dark, his skin coppery, his mouth full
and rich. He wore his thick black hair combed back, the longish ends falling
below his ears and grazing his neck.

Lea tried to swallow, but could not.

His gaze was on her, absorbed, intense.

Ribbons of warmth snaked through her, pooling in her belly,
sending fingers of heat to her pussy. In him, she saw naked, unashamed desire
that he hid from no one, especially her.

Unable to resist, she regarded his broad shoulders and what
she could see of his length. Unlike many of the men here tonight, he wasn’t
dressed in an overpriced suit. He wore a black shirt unbuttoned at the throat,
the sleeves folded back to mid-forearm, the tails hanging over his equally
black jeans.

Casual wear for a not-so-casual man.

She looked at his face once more.

Possession flared in his dark eyes.

Her body weakened in response, drawn to his potent masculinity,
while her mind warned against such foolishness.

With great effort, she pulled her attention from him, giving
it to the man at his side. He was equally tall and approximately the same age
with short blond hair, sun-bronzed skin, refined features and wearing a
well-tailored suit that made him perfect for the cover of
GQ
. If ever
there was a poster boy for unyielding authority, he was it. He would have
looked rigid and uncompromising if not for the flare of lust on his face.

Something indescribable fluttered deep within Lea, stealing
her breath, muddying her thoughts.

She sensed he and the man in black were together, two sides
of the same coin. Powerful men who’d take whatever they wanted from a woman,
while delivering pleasure.

Unbidden, images flashed through Lea’s mind of them pulling
at her delicate chains and the mask, wanting both off, imprisoning her between
their big bodies, forcing her to feel the heat of their skin, to inhale deeply
of their unique scents. She saw the dark-haired one capturing her mouth first,
thrusting his tongue inside, his impassioned kiss muffling her throaty whimper,
encouraging bawdier sounds. Not allowing her any freedom, the blond held her
wrists in one hand while his other lay claim to her breasts. Head bent, he
licked her nipples, laving them with his hot, wet tongue before drawing one and
then the other between his lips.

On her strangled cry, they guided her to her hands and
knees, the dark-haired one standing before her, arrogant in his male power, his
erect cock so close to her face she smelled its musk. Drugged by the heady
fragrance, she ran her tongue down his impressive length.

He blew out a breath, wanting more.

Obedient to his desires and her own, she guided his shaft
into her mouth, opening her throat so she could contain his full length. With
her nose against his dark, fragrant bush, she moved her hand to his balls.

He pushed to his toes.

Pleased at his response, she worked his cock with her mouth
in a way her pussy never could.

From behind, the blond made his presence known. With one
hand on her ass, he used the other to draw the crown of his shaft up her moist
cleft. Her body softened at the delicious sensation, the promise of what was to
come.

Not making her wait, he pierced her flesh with his rod,
thrusting, pumping, stretching her opening, forcing it to accommodate him.

“Hey.”

At Kit’s whispered comment, Lea blinked and looked up.

His brown eyes widened slightly. His expression asked,
what
the fuck’s the matter with you?

She stopped stroking his balls, unaware she’d been doing so.
Shaking off her arousal and outrageous fantasy, Lea pushed to her feet, running
her hands down Kit’s chest and around to his broad back. The music faded,
making the applause seem louder.

Someone called out, “Aw hell, it’s over?”

In answer, the lights dimmed, signaling an end to the show.

There was a smattering of applause and some muffled
grumbling. Moving swiftly, Kit gathered the tips, then joined Lea at a back
door hidden from the audience. The moment the room got dark, he took Lea’s
hand, leading her through the exit into a narrow, dimly lit hall.

After a few steps he halted and spoke softly, “What happened
out there?”

Not willing to admit the truth, she murmured, “We had a good
night, don’t you think?”

“Fucking amazing. Why were you stroking my balls?”

She lied, “I thought it’d enhance the act.”

“You almost made me come.”

Lea rested her fingers on his smooth cheek. “Almost?”

Kit grinned, showing his perfect white teeth. “If I wasn’t
gay…”

“I’d be paying you to come home with me.”

“Screw that. I’d do you for free.”

Lea chuckled.

Dividing the bills equally, Kit gave Lea her share and
pecked her cheek. “Have a good night off.”

“Thanks.” She hugged him as a sister might, then hurried
down the hall past the other dressing rooms to the one she shared with
Danielle.

The small space was dingy and cramped, water stains
decorating the worn carpeting and walls. A bare bulb hung from the center of
the ceiling. In front of the cluttered makeup table sat Danielle, Lea’s BFF.
Clad in a black silk robe, the young woman leaned toward the mirror, applying
cosmetics for her performance as LuST.

At the sound of the door closing, she asked, “Good show?”

Lea recalled her reaction to the man in black, the blond
next to him and the thirtysomething Latino. Unsettling might be a better word
to describe what just happened. “I have no complaints.”

Danielle’s hand stalled on her lipstick wand. She looked
over.

At twenty-five, she was the same age as Lea, equally tall,
with long brown hair and tanned skin. To the casual observer or those in the
club’s audience, Lea knew she and Danielle appeared strikingly similar. For the
more observant, their facial features and eye color differentiated them.
Whereas Danielle’s irises were blue and her face was as delicate as a china
doll’s, Lea’s features were sultry, revealing her Hispanic heritage.

“You don’t seem so certain,” Danielle said, sounding
curious. “What happened?”

“Same old, same old.” She waved the wad of cash.

The young woman’s brows arched in approval. “Nice.”

“Beats waiting tables.” Taking off her mask, Lea put it near
the others, then held out two hundred dollars.

Danielle pushed it away. “You don’t have to pay me to take
your last show.”

“I want to. You’re giving up a date.”

“With a guy who’s so nice he puts me in a coma. Better I
work here and stay awake.” Gently, she smacked Lea’s hand. “Keep it. Use it for
school.”

“I could say the same for you.”

Danielle grinned, making dimples on either side of her
mouth. “Only three more semesters to go and I’m outta this joint.”

“No kidding.” Lea stuffed the bills into her backpack and
removed her high heels. “I hope when you’re queen of the bankers, you’ll
approve at least one of my loans.”

She turned back to the mirror. “For you, sweetie, I’ll open
the frigging vault.”

Lea smiled, tenderness washing over her. She’d known
Danielle since they were eight and assigned to the same foster home. At the
time, Lea had been through ten assignments, ten different families, having come
into the system when she was three.

Danielle’s story was no better. Her mother abandoned
Danielle when she’d turned five, leaving her daughter in a church with a note
that said—
I can’t do this anymore. You take care of her.

From the moment they’d met, Lea and Danielle had been fast
friends in a decidedly unfriendly world. Luckily, they remained in the same
foster home until they turned eighteen, when their “family” and the system spit
them out without a backward glance and few tools to make a good living.

It was Danielle who’d found focus first and had gotten Lea
interested in college. She’d recommended Lea for this job as a way to pay for
her pharmacy degree. For the rest of her days, Lea knew she’d owe Danielle for
that and for relieving her intolerable loneliness. “You’re certain you don’t
want some of this money?”

“Positive. Just do good on your test.”

Lea groaned. “I still have a million slides to go through.”
She unhooked the chains draped across her cunt, placing them on the makeup
table. “God, I hate this art crap.”

“Means to an end, baby.” Danielle applied more mascara to
her lashes. “You take all that general education shit so you can talk art with
your customers while you’re filling their prescriptions and telling them where
to find the Trojans. Shows them how well rounded you are.”

Lea rolled her eyes. “I think I’d rather strip in the middle
of the drug store.”

Danielle capped her mascara. “Speaking of which, anyone
interesting out there tonight?”

Lea’s hands paused on the chain around her throat, her
thoughts returning to the man in black and the blond. She pictured them on the
stage rather than Kit, her at their feet, close enough to smell and taste their
meaty cocks and balls.

Her legs went watery.

She sensed the dark one would insist that she suckle him
first, though the blond would direct her to cup his testicles during the act.
If she didn’t, would he punish her? Would the dark one hold her still, his
hands imprisoning her wrists while the blond meted out his discipline?

Lea’s skin tingled at the thought, lust tearing through her
at the possibility of two men taking and using her at the same time. A pleasure
she’d never experienced and hadn’t even realized she’d consider until now.